


Winter Wonderland (with a Side of Snuggles)

by Lucifuge5



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Married Captains, a day in the life, cozy feels, do not repost to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22002355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/pseuds/Lucifuge5
Summary: Glimpses of Sam Wilson's day off with his husband.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31
Collections: SamSteve Small Gifts





	Winter Wonderland (with a Side of Snuggles)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NachoDiablo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/gifts).



> Nacho, I hope you like this slice of domestic/curtains AU.
> 
> Thanks a million to @Eiabug, Idellapod, and Mizface for their beta. This fic is a million times better because of your comments and suggestions. :D

"You trade your hands for cinder blocks or something?" Sam grimaces a little when he slides his hands out of the practice mitts. He stretches his hands, then makes a few quick open-close movements. They're a little tingly.

"Nah," Steve says, grabbing the hem of his sweat-drenched T-shirt. He's not even out of breath. So unfair. "Got into a 'zone' after _someone_ promised me a great breakfast."

Whatever Sam was about to sass back with evaporates from his mind when Steve bends a little and wipes the sweat off his face with the bottom of his T-shirt. His movements, efficient and graceful, spark a wave of lust in Sam, admiring the way a couple drops of sweat roll down Steve's lower abs. His eyes follow the trail and he gulps, almost-but-not-quite seeing the beginning of the deep V on Steve's upper hips. In the quiet of the gym, Steve's measured breathing, while he begins cooling down this way and that, wouldn't be out of place in a porno. 

It's the glint from Steve's wedding ring that shakes Sam out of his moment of horniness and wishing he could dunk his head in some of the waist-high, fresh snow piled up outside of the gym. His gaze drops to his own left hand with its matching ring. His face grows warmer when his mind slings back to the moment when Steve presented him with it, how in addition to specifically choosing a vibranium and adamantium alloy that would withstand the rigors of their Avenging, it was also a symbol of their love lasting an eternity. And that is Steve Rogers' darkest secret: he is a massive dork.

(All right, all right, Sam is sappy as hell too. He just happens to express it in a more laid back way. Or so Maria told him.)

"Sun will be out soon. I think Marisol's Bakery will be opening sometime in the next ten minutes. Why don't you go ahead and--hey, Sammy, what's with that goofy face?"

Sam blinks a few times. He gives his husband his second-best glare. "Who are you calling 'goofy?’"

"Oh, just this fella I happen to be lucky enough to be married to," Steve replies, everything in him radiating way too much cheer for 5:45 in the goddamn morning.

"Being a cutie will only take you so far, Rogers." Sam raises an eyebrow. 

"In bed?" Steve wiggles his eyebrows before rolling up one of his hand wraps.

"Uh huh," is all Sam can give him because Steve can troll with the best of them. All of his "aw, shucks" looks are the veneer of a prank-loving, smart-mouthed marshmallow of a man.

Steve's stare gets softer and, a second later, a slight blush begins to darken his face. He scratches the back of his head with his left hand; the still-attached hand wrap dangles to and fro. "Ah, so, um yeah," he says after clearing his throat. "Um, Mr. Ling said he wanted to have a quick word with me." 

"Yeah?" Sam glances over at the Chinese man in the small office to their right. He frowns a little. "Trouble?" 

"Nah." Steve tilts his head a little to the left and Sam gets closer to him. "Last time we talked, it was him asking me to help train his son's twins. Besides, I think it'd be better if you go on ahead--" His stomach growls so loud that Sam doesn't even bother to hide his laughter. 

"You betcha," Sam answers once he's calmed down. He tilts his head up and gives Steve a quick kiss before heading to the locker room and get his coat and scarf.

* * *

It might be a few minutes past 6 a.m., but there are at least three people in front of Sam at Marisol's. The air is heavy with the aroma of fresh-baked pastries. "Buenos días," he says to Doña Marisol while Domingo, her son, and Leonela, her granddaughter, start making cafecitos and selling challah bread and pastelitos.

<"Sammy, I'm so happy to see you," Marisol replies. "Where is that husband of yours? He still treating you right?">

<"Steve's at the gym. He's fine.">

<"That he is, heh heh." Marisol winks. "You better tell him to be good to you or else you and I will end up eloping.">

At 68 years young, Marisol Santos might be more of a contemporary of Steve than Sam's. Still, she's a complete flirt. 

<"Like Elisa and Juan Miguel did in yesterday's episode of _Love Returned_?" Sam blurts out because Doña Marisol is the only other person Sam knows who watches the Colombian telenovela.>

<"Goodness gracious," Marisol says, placing her hand on her upper chest. "I couldn't believe that Elisa would be so naive as to believe Juan Miguel's lies. Especially since she'd just inherited her father's fortune. Youth's foolishness, I swear." She shakes her head. "So what would you like this morning?">

Sam twists his mouth as he considers what to order. 

<"Go ahead, Sammy, take all day," Marisol says, one of her expertly pencilled eyebrows raised. "It's not as if there's going to be a snowstorm this afternoon.">

<"Right." Sam blinks and takes a deep breath before starting his order.>

* * *

Sam has just finished putting a third box of empanadas in the fridge when Steve, freshly showered, sneaks up behind him and wraps his arms across Sam's abs. He hmms at the trail of barely-there kisses Steve leaves on his shoulders and under his ears. "Hahah, tickles," he says when Steve snorts on his neck.

"I love that about you," Steve murmurs, his kisses turning more intense, soft pressure becoming not-so-gentle nibbling. 

"Thought you--um… that you only loved me because I keep you well-fed," Sam says, sighing with anticipation as Steve's hands slide down.

"Maybe I can show you how grateful I am?"

With much concentration, eventually Sam manages to turn around and look into Steve's lust-filled eyes. He tilts his head slightly up and kisses a path from Steve's mouth to his jaw while he lets _his hands_ wander to Steve's butt. "You have the best ideas," he manages to say between kisses.

* * *

"Would've been nice to have made it to the bedroom," Sam says while looking at the heap of clothes by the sofa.

"Maybe," Steve answers mid-yawn. "But _someone_ was clever enough to keep some spare lube under the sofa."

"What can I say? I'm a genius." Sam is about to say something else when he hears the soft snores coming from behind him. He yawns in sympathy, his gaze drifting to the floor-to-ceiling windows (with privacy glass courtesy of Stark, Inc). 

The snow is beginning to come down. Sam grabs a large throw off the top of the sofa, rearranges his body until his head is resting on Steve's pecs and, after making sure that both he and his hubby will be warm, closes his eyes and drifts into sleep. 

THE END


End file.
